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RANDY ROARK
Two Gentleman of Verona (1594-1595)
The mind is a minefield.
It whispers stories and conspires,
yammering about past times.
I’d rather an April sun
that entices me to stay
until I miss the tide—
a conversation with a
stranger,
the silhouette of a valentine
in a moment of disarray,
or maybe a chameleon
everchanging—something that
is now what it will always be
the way what is
remembered
is all that remains of what’s vanished,
the silt that once was stone.
Just so, take this ember up—
blow on its carmines and auburns
until the last few moments before dawn.
[Excerpt from The Shakespeare Poems.]